


All I want from you is to feel me

by static_abyss



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Supernatural everyone has their own Heaven, except for soul mates who share the same Heaven. Even though Arthur and Merlin are soul mates, their first meeting is in heaven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I want from you is to feel me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the KKM #29. Also posted at LJ as drownwith_me. Thanks to all those who commented on this when it was posted as anon at the KKM. The prompt, which is the summary for this piece, was beautiful, so thanks to OP.

Arthur feels the exact moment of his death. He was in a car accident, speeding around turns and his car flipped over. He can't really remember why he was doing it, but he does understand what's happening. He knows why Morgana and Uther stand by his bed and hold each other's hands while they look at him. He thinks if any good will come of this, it's that Uther and Morgana will talk to each other again. And, even though he knows that once his body is buried they'll go back to their bickering; there's something comforting in knowing they were there for each other.

When he does die, it's not painful, sort of like fitting into clothes one size too small. It feels like he, whatever he is, is pushing against his body, fighting to free himself from the confines of flesh. Arthur thinks it's all rather poetic until he passes out.

He wakes to an open field, great open expanses of grass for what looks like miles. There are some trees to his right, but he focuses on the open land, the way the sun shines down on his blond head. He looks down at himself and he's wearing the jeans he was wearing that night he drove his car off the road. He has on the white V-neck shirt to go with it and it all looks rather appropriate as though he expected heaven to be like this.

"Hey."

Arthur turns and he's caught off guard by what he finds behind him rather than the person who called to him. There's a castle, four grey stone towers looming over the main floor. There's a white wall that reaches about halfway up the castle. It's enormous; the windows look like shining crystals as the sun hits them on its way down. Arthur stares, wonders where he is because it feels like home, but there's no one around.

That's when he remembers the person who called him.

He's a young man, late twenties at most, and Arthur can't help the tightening in his chest when he realises that.

"You were young," he says.

The man stares at him with deep blue eyes that look almost black from where Arthur is standing. They're framed by thick lashes that look that much darker with the man's pale skin. His hair is a mess of dark curls on his head, the kind that make Arthur want to run his fingers through them. He can see the sadness in the man's eyes as they look at each other and Arthur has to look away.

"You were young too," the man answers.

Arthur nods because he was. "I was going to be President of my father's company. I flipped my car over on the road instead. I bet Morgana will have a laugh at that--when she can."

He breaks off at that. It's too soon. He can see Morgana with her long black hair and pale skin, much like the man in front of him. The man is more fit to be Morgana's brother than Arthur could ever be. She was just like the man in front of Arthur, but more confident, shining with it. She was strong and beautiful and Arthur used to escort her to Uther's parties with a fierce sort of pride that he'd never admitted to her. They were the Pendragons and he was always so proud of her.

"My name's Merlin."

And when Arthur looks back at Merlin he knows the pain is written on his face. Everything feels too small again even though they're outside with air blowing around them, carrying over the smell of grass and wet earth.

"I'm Arthur," he says extending a hand.

Merlin looks at it as if he doesn't know what to do with it and Arthur raises an eyebrow, can't help the smirk. "You shake it, Merlin," he mocks.

"I know that," Merlin says, rolling his eyes. "I was just wondering what kind of man chooses to get a manicure before he drives his car off the road."

"I didn't drive my car off the road, obviously," Arthur sighs. "I--hang on, how long have you been dead?"

"It's rude to ask people their age," Merlin deadpans and Arthur's confused until Merlin breaks into a smile. "I don't really know when I died. They don't keep time here the same way we do, back there."

Arthur frowns, his eyes following the vague hand gestures, a sort of fond feeling settling into his chest.

"Who are they?" he asks instead turning around on the spot.

He sees no one.

"The angels," Merlin answers.

"Angels?"

"Yes."

Arthur can't tell if Merlin is lying, doesn't know him well enough for that. He does know that Merlin isn't laughing and there's an angry, almost defiant look about him. It's as if he's daring Arthur to call him a liar. Arthur doesn't. He turns again, looks at the stone castle, at the open fields, at Merlin--and it all feels right somehow, as if this is where he would choose to go if he had a choice.

"So," Arthur starts turning back to Merlin, feeling the jolt in his stomach when he catches sight of those dark blue eyes again. "This is heaven?"

"Maybe."

"My heaven of yours?"

"I was here first," Merlin shrugs. "So, mine?"

Arthur can't help his grin at that. "So, I'm all you've ever wanted in life, am I Merlin? I'm part of your heaven?"

"I'm going to stop your ego right there for a bit, yeah?" and Arthur likes the face Merlin pulls at that, his nose scrunched up as though he can't believe Arthur is that much of a loser. "There's been some mistake. If you're dead and this is my heaven, then where's yours?"

"Shouldn't you know that," Arthur says, because Merlin's been here longer after all.

"No," Merlin answers, but he's looking around now too. "I don't know where you came from. I just know I was here first."

"What if you're supposed to take me somewhere? Who brought you here?"

Merlin stops moving and peers at Arthur. He narrows his eyes, steps forward until he's right in Arthur's space and Arthur can smell Irish Spring soap and something else that he can't understand, but that has to be Merlin. He stares, caught in Merlin's blue eyes, dark blue, almost black when Arthur stares too long. The dark brush of lashes around those eyes make Arthur want to lift a finger to them, to feel them brush against his index finger.

"What are you doing?" he asks instead, taking a step back and holding out a hand to keep Merlin away.

"Are you trying to pull something? Is this some kind of test?" Merlin accuses, stepping forward until Arthur's hand is pressed right to his chest.

Arthur can feel Merlin's heart underneath his palm. It's beating hard and Arthur doesn't know what he expected, but he didn't think, didn't bother to think this through. They have heartbeats. He presses his free hand to his chest, feels the beating of his heart underneath. He looks up at Merlin, not bothering to hide the wonder he feels.

"We have heartbeats," Arthur says, wild and free like the thumping in his chest. "We have actual heartbeats. How?"

"You're not one of them, are you?" Merlin asks and now he's moving back himself, crossing his arms and Arthur wants to laugh because there's nothing for Merlin to lean against and it all just look ridiculous, but perfect all the same.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur laughs. "But, I can assure you, unless you mean Arthur Pendragon, I am not who you think I am."

Merlin nods, turns and heads off at a brisk walk. Arthur is stuck for a second just watching him, the way his button up is too big for him, the way his black jeans hug legs that look like they'll go on forever. He's got on boots, not dress shoes like Arthur and he makes it look so easy, climbing up the slight incline to the stone castle. Merlin stops about halfway up the hill, turns and waves at Arthur.

"Are you coming or what?" he yells.

Arthur looks behind him at the wide expanse of hill, the sun setting just behind them, red light in the sky, no moon yet. He takes a deep breath, feels the smell of wet dirt and grass settle inside him and, oh yeah, he's coming. He takes off at a run and everything is easier then. It doesn't matter what shoes he has on because he's running and Arthur's always loved running. He can hear Merlin's laughter and it's freedom when he rushes past, calls out for Merlin to hurry.

Arthur doesn't wait for Merlin until he's in front of the white wall, the wooden door taller than any door Arthur's ever seen. He stands there, lets the feeling of inferiority drop over him, the knowledge that there are things bigger than him, better. It grounds him, humbles him and Arthur's rarely had moments of humility in his life. He enjoys the moment, the wonder and then Merlin's next to him, breath loud and ragged and the moment is gone.

"Don't you know how to run?" Arthur asks, rolling his eyes as Merlin pants louder, drops his hands to his knees and gasps dramatically at Arthur.

Arthur feels the left corner of his mouth twitch upward and he shakes his head, sighs as though the world rests on his shoulder and motions to the wall. "How do we get in?"

Merlin takes a deep breath, a strange sparkle in his eyes and he stands in front of Arthur. Arthur moves aside, watches as Merlin raises his hands in front of the door. He gets caught up in the serious set of Merlin's jaw, the way his it works as he stares at the door. Arthur is just about to make a biting comment when he hears the door creak as it swings inward.

"How--"

Merlin grins. "Magic," he says and walks inside.

Arthur doubts it very much, but he follows anyway, stunned at what he sees. They're on a dirt road with little huts on either side of them. It's like one of those quaint little towns he had to read about at Uni, the kind of town castles had in their front yards. He looks at the looming stone castle and there's a fluttering in his stomach.

King Arthur.

"You're picturing yourself as king aren't you?"

"No," Arthur answers too quickly.

"I knew it," Merlin rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "You're so easy to read. It's all right, mate. I did the same thing when I first got here. But, King Merlin just doesn't have the same ring as King Arthur, does it? My castle, though. I was here first."

"As if," Arthur answers. "I'd fight you for it if I had to."

"You wouldn't win," Merlin says and he sounds so sure of himself that Arthur laughs.

"What," Merlin asks. "You think you could beat me? I can move things with my mind."

"Good, that's a relief. I wasn't sure you had one."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny."

They head to the castle, Merlin opening the doors there too. When Arthur asks how he does it, Merlin just shrugs, says it's practice and Arthur doesn't ask anymore. He thinks he'll let Merlin open the doors from now on.

The inside of the castle has high a ceiling in the main entrance, ceilings that get lower when they get to the corridors and the stairs. It's bigger on the inside than Arthur expected, lots of stairs and doors on either side of every corridor they pass. There's a throne room, two golden thrones on the far side. Arthur can feel his hands itching and he casts a look at Merlin who's looking back at him. They break off at a run at the same time and Arthur gets there first, takes the bigger of the two thrones and laughs at Merlin.

"Prat," Merlin says, but he takes the other throne anyway.

"Silence," Arthur answers. Because, he can. He's dead.

"Aren't you a charmer," Merlin snarks as he swings his legs against the throne he's on. "Who were you anyway, you know, back when you were alive?"

"Why so interested Merlin?" Arthur asks and there's no way that can't be interpreted as flirting.

Merlin smiles, "Just wanted to know. Remember what I told you about the angels?"

"No," Arthur says. He's distracted by Merlin, by the clear acceptance of Arthur's comment. They're dead, Arthur reasons, there's no one else around for miles. Of course Merlin would accept anything Arthur threw at him. Arthur wasn't even sure how long it'd been since Merlin had a good shag.

"They come sometimes," Merlin says and Arthur blinks away all other thoughts as he listens to Merlin. "There's one really. I don't know his name, sad looking. He's got these blue eyes and a trench coat. He told me that there are more people here, but they each get their own heaven. It looks like whatever they want it to look. He said he liked my heaven."

"But what about mine then?"

Merlin shakes his head. "Maybe this is your heaven."

Arthur looks around at the dark throne room. It feels empty, endless and he doesn't understand why he should be afraid now. He doesn't know why everything seems so big now, endless, never changing, stuck the same. It's what people dream of, being alive forever in their own corner of the world, never having to worry about jobs and families. But, now that Arthur has it, it spreads out infinite before him and he feels lost, drowning in the endless expanse of time. He'll never see anything but what is in front of him now.

He breaks away from his thoughts when he feels Merlin's fingers on top of his.

"I know," Merlin tells him as Arthur turns his hand to twine his fingers with Merlin. "But, you're not alone here."

"How did you do it?" Arthur asks and he's surprised at how hoarse he sounds, how young.

"I don't know," Merlin answers and his eyes are so blue, his cheekbones so sharp with the fading light. Arthur wants to touch them, to run his thumb over them. He wants to sculpt Merlin, to draw him, kiss him.

"Who are you?"

Merlin's smile is soft. "I asked first Arthur Pendragon."

"I have a sister. Her name's Morgana and she's evil, a right witch. She and my father fought all the time, bickering about anything and everything. We couldn't stand each other when we were younger, used to see who could make the other cry first."

Arthur breaks off and he's glad Merlin doesn't press. They haven't let go of each other's hands and Arthur squeezes back when Merlin's hold tightens.

"What about your mum?"

Arthur shakes his head. "No idea. She could be dead for all I know. Father never spoke much about her after she left. All I know is that she had blond hair. What about you?"

"Me? Blond? Never." Merlin grins. "My mum lives with my uncle Gaius. They're probably still in our little town, running the little bakery we've had since I was born. I never knew my dad, but mum used to talk about him all the time. He was supposed to be some influential businessman. She never told me his name, but Uncle Gaius used to say that he was probably long gone to America. Never met him. Don't really want to."

"Why not?"

Merlin looks at him. "Life's too short."

Arthur laughs, doesn't know why it's so funny, but it is. He lets his head fall back against the throne and he laughs like he hasn't since Morgana introduced her girlfriend, Gwen, to Uther.

He feels Merlin move, stops laughing when Merlin's knees land on either side of his thighs, right on the throne Arthur is on. He lifts his head, catches Merlin's eyes just as Merlin's hands come to rest on either side of Arthur's head. Arthur's hands fit themselves onto Merlin's hips of their own volition, his thumbs sliding underneath Merlin's shirt to feel the sharp jut of his hipbones.

"Did you leave anyone Arthur?" Merlin asks, voice low as he eases closer.

"Was engaged," Arthur breathes. "To a girl whose father owned a rivalling company."

Merlin nods, moves closer so that his lips are inches away from Arthur and Arthur can't remember what her name was. Vivian or Sophia. He's not sure who Uther was friends with when he announced Arthur's engagement.

"What was her name?" Merlin asks, brushing his nose with Arthur's.

"Vivian or Sophia. Might have been Susan."

"That many?"

And Merlin's lips are so close that all Arthur has to do is lean forward, but Merlin's hands are on his shoulders now, holding him back against the back of the throne.

"Doesn't matter now," Arthur whispers watching Merlin shift above him, the curve of his neck when Arthur digs his thumbs into Merlin's skin. "Morgana will probably take care of all that for me."

"Men?"

"Never found the right one," Arthur answers, serious because even though Merlin's hands are shaking against Arthur's shoulder, this isn't something he's willing to take lightly. "What about you?"

"Just one," Merlin answers, fingers slipping into Arthur's hair. "His name was Gwaine. I forgot his name for a bit while I was waiting."

"Waiting?"

"That's how I made it," Merlin answers. "I knew I was waiting for someone and at first I thought it was him. But he died and he didn't come here. I thought it would be best to just forget for a while. Then, you came and I remembered his name, remembered my mum and Gaius."

Arthur kisses him then, slides his hands further up Merlin's shirt, over his back, fingers brushing over skin, pulling until Merlin's is as close as Arthur can get him. They press against each other, tongues sliding together as Merlin's fingers tangle in Arthur's hair. Merlin tugs and Arthur lets out a low sound from the back of his throat. They part, breathe in each other's air, before Arthur leans forward again, tongue flicking against Merlin's bottom lip just to taste, drinking in the sounds Merlin's making, the way he's so pliable beneath Arthur's hands.

Merlin's teeth catch Arthur's bottom lip and Arthur lifts his leg to rest his foot on the edge of the throne, his thigh pressing against the back of Merlin's thigh, pushing him closer to Arthur's body. Merlin shifts so that he's straddling Arthur's thigh and Arthur watches Merlin rock back against his thigh. He throws his head back, but Merlin's fingers are in his hair holding him firmly in place. Arthur watches the way Merlin's mouth parts as he rocks back on Arthur's thigh, the way his body shakes when Arthur's hand reaches out to touch the outline of his cock through his jeans.

Arthur says nothing, too afraid that he'll break the moment, that Merlin will disappear and he'll wake up in the hospital with Morgana and Uther arguing over him. Merlin leans forward, his forehead on Arthur's shoulder so that he's breathing ragged against Arthur's ear.

"Yeah," Merlin breathes into Arthur's air when Arthur brings his leg closer, shifting them closer together.

Arthur feels the exact moment Merlin comes. It happens somewhere between Arthur's tongue flicking against his neck and Arthur's hand finally fitting down the front of his jeans. Merlin's back arches and his fingers dig into Arthur's shoulder and he's perfect. Arthur shudders, makes small pleading noises as Merlin swallows hard.

"Please," Arthur whispers, his hands tight around Merlin. "Please, Merlin."

It's so easy as soon as Merlin undoes the button on Arthur's trousers. His hand is firm against the head of Arthur's cock and when he rubs it's all Arthur can do not to fall apart completely. Merlin's hand wraps around him and he sides his fingers, messy, sometimes too rough, sometimes not rough enough, but Merlin's tongue is in Arthur's mouth and his skin is under Arthur's fingers and it's enough. It's enough to have Arthur throwing his head back and coming into Merlin's fingers, over his palm.

They fall against each other, Merlin warm against Arthur's front. "Can I take you to bed," Arthur whispers into Merlin's neck, his hands tightening on the back of Merlin's shirt.

He can feel Merlin's heart beating against his, the fingers in Arthur's hair. He feels more than hears Merlin's soft laugh and it all feels so right, like nothing ever has in Arthur's life before his death.

"Yeah," Merlin tells him. "Yeah, you can."

-

They don't have much in common, Arthur finds out.

Merlin studied ancient history and creative writing at Uni. Arthur studied business administration and international relations.

("Of course, you'd study business administration and international relations. It's so Pendragon of you."

"What is that even supposed to mean? Anyway, what is ancient history? You do know that you were probably the only person who cared, right?")

Merlin doesn't understand Arthur's needs to wake up before the sun is up just to go for a run.

("Honestly," Merlin complains the first morning. "You're not going to get out of shape. We're dead, Arthur."

"Just because you're too lazy to walk more than a few steps to the kitchen, doesn't mean I am," Arthur answers and makes a point to wake up Merlin every day before his run just because he likes the annoyed look Merlin sends his way. Not that he'd ever admit to that. And also, maybe because, most mornings Merlin will wrap himself around Arthur and kiss him until they're both breathless before letting him go.)

Arthur doesn't understand how Merlin can open the heavy doors without even touching them when he can't. He doesn't understand why Merlin will insist on writing things down on the empty books they find in the library underneath the castle when no one will read them. He doesn't understand many things about Merlin, but there's something about watching Merlin try to explain, to get Arthur to see why it's so important, something about that look in his eyes that makes Arthur want to know. Sometimes he thinks Merlin doesn't get him either, catches Merlin staring at him as if he's trying to figure out a particularly hard puzzle and Arthur won't be able to keep himself from kissing him, pressing promises into the skin of Merlin's neck. Merlin will insist that Arthur knows him better than Merlin will ever know him, but Arthur doubts it because Merlin knows him and it doesn't matter anyway.

They have all of eternity, after all.


End file.
